


black out days

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not so happy ending, Very OOC, and what that entails fr them, basically just the aftermath of the halloween party, fluff but not for long, fuck idk, i thhink, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 12:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: he let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding before it really set in what was happening - jake dillinger’s house was burning down.





	black out days

**Author's Note:**

> title ripped from black out days by phantogram
> 
> i wrote this in september of last year and only uploading it cus i want something else on my account other than that old fic lololol!
> 
> like in the tags, its probably super ooc. i dont have the energy to go through and fix michael's characterization. i wrote this when i was talking to my friend about our headcanons and this michael is basically just all those hcs pushed together into a living character.
> 
> i also haven't touched anything bmc in a long time but here we are! sorry for rambling on.
> 
> anyways, asides from my horrible writing and attempt at angst, i hope you can somewhat enjoy this fic!

**_“ it was winter when i had you. it was spring when i lost you._ **

**_now it's nearly that time of year again. my heart is empty,_ **

**_everything feels cold. the memories are fading_ **

**_i feel so so alone._ **

**_i guess i just wanted you to know. ”_ **

 

**_Oops, it looks like Jake's phone has been off/disconnected for a while. We'll deliver your message when they connect again._ **

 

***

 

november first, four a.m.

 

michaels breathing was jagged and uneven, the sound of ambulances - too familiar - rung throughout the block. the fire department was arriving soon, too, and there were still a lot of people inside. michael didn’t quite know what was happening, everything too blurry and his head hurt a little too much, his throat raw from coughing.

jake dillinger’s house was burning down. and all michael could do was stand there, dumbfounded, as the house was engulfed in orange-yellow glowing flames, dark smoak spreading from the top. you could see inside of the house, partly. the rooftop collapsed in, charred wood on the floor of what he thought was the living room. 

he let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding before it really set in what was happening - jake dillinger’s house was  _ burning down. _

 

november second, five p.m.

 

michael sat by jake’s hospital bed, lip caught in his teeth as he tried to breathe evenly. he doesn’t really know what he’s doing here, but the empty hospital room was so depressing, and it hasn’t really clicked that jake has nobody to hold his hand and bring stupid flowers to him in the hospital. he blinks once, twice, and three times before he sees the doctor standing in front of him. “oh,” he mumbles, taking off his headphones awkwardly and letting them sit around his neck.

the doctor tells michael jake was burned pretty badly, and both of his legs sustained pretty nasty breaks. nobody has been saying anything about who got out how, so when the doctor asks michael if he knows how jake got the breaks, he just shakes his head. he swallows, thick, as the doctor repeats the severity of jakes injuries, and the risks.

“are you his friend?”   
“i guess you could say that.”   
“do you know any of his family we could contact?”   
“i.. don’t think that's a good idea.”

 

november fourth, 7 a.m.

 

when jake wakes up, he doesn’t say anything. michael thinks this is the worst he’s ever seen jake, and that's saying a lot- he remembers the phone call he got, early in the morning of jake crying - barely being able to make out “they left.”

 

there's a weird feeling in his stomach when he realizes that jake called michael because he had nobody else, and he still doesn’t. 

 

jake - happy, bouncy, smiley, sunshiney jake - simply stared up at the ceiling, blank. michael could hear jake’s breath hitch every once and a while over his low music, but neither of them said anything. 

 

jake didn’t even look at michael, but michael kept looking at jake.

  
  


december twelfth, 8 p.m.

 

jake’s tiny little apartment seemed so grey, michael thinks. maybe it's just because it's so dark all the time, the blinds shut and the lights as dim as they could be. jake used michael’s arm as a pillow, back pressed against michael’s side. 

it was also so quiet. there would sometimes be the soft sound of passing cars, or people talking from outside seeping in through the door, and jake stirred. michael couldn’t tell if he was asleep, but he assumed jake wasn’t. neither of them slept much, anyways.

 

but it was nicer to have company.

  
  


december thirteenth, 6 p.m.

 

“jake,” michael said, low. just like he knew how to do, practiced. “jake, hey.”

jake trembled, looking down at the floor, breath wild. “no-” he gasped, wincing as his foot pressed against the glass shard on the kitchen floor. 

 

“jake,” michael repeated, stepping closer when jake backed up. “no, no, no,”

 

he took him, hugged him tight against his chest. “im here,” he whispered, next to jakes ear. “it's okay. you’re okay. im here,”

 

slowly, they went to the ground, michael slowly pushing the shards away with his foot, still holding jake in his arms as they sat against the fridge. the soft hum played in the background, the only noise aside from jake’s quiet sobs that shook his body.

 

“you’re okay,”   
  
  
december nineteenth, 3 a.m.

 

usually, jake left a key under the mat outside for michael to unlock the door and relock it behind him. michael always put the key back under the mat when he left, slipping through the door, trying not to get too much light in. whenever michael left, jake was lying on the mattress on the floor, facing away from the floor anyways. but he always tenses up when too much light gets in, makes his eyes hurt.

 

but today, the key wasn’t there.

 

“jake?” michael called, softly, hitting his knuckles against the wood of the door. “ _ jacob  _ dillinger.” 

 

but there was no answer. 

  
  


december twenty first, 9 p.m.

 

“you wanna try walking?” michael says, softly, standing in front of jake, who sat on the bed.    
  
“no,” he looked down, “michael, please just.. drop it.”

  
“ _ no, _ ” he insisted, taking jakes hands. “cmon. get up. you gotta do it. i’ll be right here if you fall, okay? i’ll catch you like.. like.. you’re my  _ damsel in distress _ and im prince charming, or whatever.”

 

jake shook his head again, and michael sighed. “jake, you have to.”

 

“fine,”

 

michael smiles softly, grabbing jake’s arm and using his other hand to hold him at the waist until he stood up. “this is stupid,” jake mumbles, eyes closed.

 

“mmhm, cmon.”

 

he gets a few good steps in before his knees buckle and he almost falls, michael catching him instinctively. “what did i say?”

 

“..im not a damsel in distress,” jake says, tired. “i know, honey.”

  
  


december twenty third, eight thirty p.m.

 

“you know,” michael says, playing with jakes hair. today had been one of his better days, and jake thinks it feels nice. it got cold outside, and you could feel it from inside the house too. “you could come over for christmas. my moms would love to meet my mystery boyfriend,”

 

“im not that interesting.”   
  
michael frowns, “hey. dont say that, alright? you’re pretty fuckin awesome.”

 

jake rolls over, putting his hands in michaels hoodie pockets. he snuggles up to his shoulder and closes his eyes, and michael readjusts so he can continue to twirl jakes hair with his fingers. “i think i wanna stay in this year. you know, first year alone.”

 

michael nods, sadly. “i’m just saying, it doesn’t have to be.” it's quiet for a while, and michael listens to the sound of jakes breathing for a long time.

 

“i know.”

  
  


***

 

**january**

 

they dance in the kitchen, soft movements, one of michael’s hands on jakes hip at all times, keeping him steady from falling. jake smiles, wide, and chuckles. michaels heart melts a little bit.

 

the next day, michael rubs jakes back as he cries and throws up.

 

it's on and off. 

 

**february**

 

michael brings jake over to meet his moms. they’re lovely, and treat jake nicer than how his parents ever were. he smiles awkwardly and lie when his parents are brought up, and tug at his sleeves. 

 

when he gets home he stares in the mirror, shirtless, for a long time. he punches the mirror. michael is there to clean him up.

 

**march**

 

things get easy. jake can walk well again. they stand in the kitchen and jake wraps his arms around michael’s torso and smiles against his lips. it seems like everything pays off. michael feels like coming home, and he’s finally safe.

 

**april**

 

jake stares at the wall for a long time. michael sits by his side, holding his hand, rubbing shapes into his palm before jake mumbles, “i saw them again. it felt so real.”

 

before michael could say anything, jake got up and went to the bathroom. the door locking was the indicator. maybe michael bit off more than he could chew with this.

 

**may**

 

“i think we should break up.”   
“what? jake, no.”   
“im- im sorry.”

“jake, if i leave, you’re just gonna-”   
“im just a charity case, huh?”   
“ _ i love you, please. _ ”

 

**june**

 

“is this michael mell?”   
“yeah,” he says, using his shoulder to press the phone to his ear as he clicks away at his laptop. “who is this?”   
  
“we just got a jake dillinger in the emergency room, you’re listed as his-”   
“jake dillinger,” michael repeats, taking the phone in his opposite hand. “like, jacob? jacob dillinger? burn scars? brown hair?”

“hold on-” michael heard people talk in the back, but it was muffled. he held the phone to his ear still as he got up and put on his shoes.

“yeah, it's him.”

 

**july**

 

“i think it's time, michael.”   
“...”

“you know, he would have wanted-”   
“you don't get to say what he would have wanted.”

 

**august**

 

school starts back up, and michael reads off his math homework to jake. 

“god,” he laughs, but it lacked humor. more bitter than anything. “you were always the one who was good at math. i can’t understand this stuff.”

 

jake doesn’t answer. michael closes the textbook.

 

**september**

 

as the air gets colder, michael spends more time away from the hospital. he can't bare it. 

 

**october 31st, 2016.**

 

michael looked in the mirror, and it felt like smoke filled his lungs. he couldn’t breathe.

 

**november**

 

it was time to let go.

 

***

 

december 12th.

  
  


**mikey:** how are u doing? need me to come over?

im actually good today. thanks, though. : **jakeyd**

**mikey:** of course. anytime.

          (read: 3:32am)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this is.. so ugly. i edited like three words but other than that its all my old writing.
> 
> september.. was a time.  
> the story is kinda foggy and doesn't really make sense, but i hope you enjoyed the subpar angst from my my mid-depressive episode self writing mellinger angst to cope lololol.
> 
> talk to me on tumblr <3! https://astionez.tumblr.com/


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